Free The Green Brain by Frank Herbert Page B

accident, of course, but …”
    â€œOr a deliberate attempt to embarrass me.”
    Joao looked up, studied his father. That was a possibility, of course. His father did have enemies. And the Carsonites were always there to be considered. They had friends in many places … and some were fanatics who’d stoop to any scheme. Still …
    Decision came to Joao. He returned his attention to the motionless insect. His father had to be convinced, and here was the perfect lever for the argument.
    â€œLook at this creature, Father,” he said.
    The Prefect turned a reluctant gaze on the insect.
    â€œOur earliest poisons,” Joao said, “killed off the weak and selected out those immune to this threat from humans. Only the immune remained to breed. The poisons we use now—some of them—don’t leave such loopholes … and the deadly vibrations at the barriers …” He shrugged. “Still, this is a form of beetle, Father, and somehow it got through the barriers. I’ll show you a thing.”
    Joao drew a long, thin whistle of shiny metal from his breast pocket. “There was a time when this called countless beetles to their deaths. I merely had to tune it across their attraction spectrum.” He put the whistle to his lips, blew into it, all the while turning the end of it.
    No sound audible to human ears emerged from the instrument, but the beetle’s antennae writhed.
    Joao removed the whistle from his mouth.

    The antennae stopped writhing.
    â€œIt stayed put, you see,” Joao said. “It’s a beetle and should be attracted by this whistle, but it did not move. And I think, Father, that there’re indications of malignant intelligence among these creatures. They’re far from extinction, Father … and I believe they’re beginning to strike back.”
    â€œMalignant intelligence, pah!” his father said.
    â€œYou must believe me, Father,” Joao said. “No one listens when we bandeirantes report what we’ve seen. They laugh and say we are too long in the jungle. And where’s our evidence? They say such stories could be expected from ignorant farmers … then they begin to doubt and suspect us.”
    â€œWith good reason, I say.”
    â€œYou will not believe your own son?”
    â€œWhat has my son said that I can believe?” The elder Martinho was totally the Prefect now, standing erect, glaring coldly at Joao.
    â€œIn the Goyaz last month,” Joao said, “Antonil Lisboa’s bandeirante lost three men who …”
    â€œAccidents.”
    â€œThey were killed with formic acid and oil of copahu.”
    â€œThey were careless with their poisons. Men grow careless when they …”
    â€œNo! The formic acid was particularly strong, a heavy concentrate, and identical to that of insect origin. The men were drenched with it.”
    â€œYou imply that insects such as this …” The Prefect pointed to the motionless creature on the crucifix. “That blind creatures such as this …”
    â€œThey’re not blind.”
    â€œI did not mean literally blind, but without intelligence,” the Prefect said. “You cannot seriously imply
that such creatures attacked humans and killed them.”
    â€œWe’ve yet to determine precisely how the men were slain,” Joao said. “We’ve only the bodies and physical evidence at the scene. But there’ve been other deaths, Father, and men missing, and reports of strange creatures that attack bandeirantes. We grow more certain with each day that …”
    He fell silent as the beetle crawled off the crucifix onto the desk. Immediately it darkened to brown, blended with the wood surface.
    â€œPlease, Father—get me a container.”
    The beetle reached the edge of the desk, hesitated. Its antennae curled back, then forward.
    â€œI’ll get your container only if you promise to use discretion